


No Hands

by frozenasphalt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Dominant!Jongdae, Exhibitionism, Kris is shook, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenasphalt/pseuds/frozenasphalt
Summary: In which Jongdae is strangely proud of his ability to come untouched.





	No Hands

**Author's Note:**

> written forever ago, reuploaded/imported from [my livejournal](http://frozenasphalt.livejournal.com/)

Jongdae doesn’t quite remember exactly how he ended up like this—on his knees in a closet backstage with a mouthful of Kris’s cock—all he’s certain of is that he’s just come in his pants.  
  
His orgasm had hit him hard and quick, before he realized he hadn’t even gotten a chance to touch himself.  
  
He blames it on the thrill of their latest win, puts the fault on Kris for keeping such a tight-ass grip on the back of his head so he’d take as much of him as possible, yanking at his hair as he fucked his mouth till the corners were stretched raw and pink. Maybe it’d been the way Kris’ face had twisted up in ecstasy as Jongdae sucked his orgasm out of him that had caused the younger male to follow so abruptly. In any case, his briefs are soaked and he doesn’t have a spare to change into.  
  
Oddly enough, Jongdae isn’t even upset.  
  
They don’t speak about it afterwards. Jongdae would have liked to forget about the happy accident altogether, but he can’t. Not with the way Kris has been acting toward him ever since. Kris doesn’t give voice to his desire, but to Jongdae it’s palpable. Lately the leader’s gaze burns hotter upon him than usual and his touches linger against his skin just a little bit longer than they did before.  
  
To be honest, Jongdae thinks Kris’ puppy-dog behavior is cute (albeit kind of annoying). But the singer refuses to relent. Instead, he pushes Kris away if he gets too clingy, and when the leader pouts Jongdae will cheekily bare his teeth enough that his eyes crinkle up at the sides. Then he’ll let out the airy kind of laugh that he knows will reduce Kris’ insides to pudding (but then again, he’s almost certain Kris’ insides consist of 70% pudding anyway. The leftover 30% is maple syrup).  
  
It’s not that Jongdae is opposed to the affection; in reality he craves it. But it’s safe to say he gets off on toying with the older boy. That’s the exact reason he finds himself face down ass up, working anal beads into his fluttering hole one by one, his neck straining to watch Kris ogle him from the other side of the room.  
  
The mere thought of Kris’ eyes fixed on him as he got himself off had made Jongdae unbearably hard. Instead of taking matters into his own hands (so to speak), he decided he wanted an audience. So, he’d caught the older male off guard while the rest of M were out, climbed into Kris’ lap and ravaged his lips with kisses.  
  
Jongdae had let Kris grind his bulge against his ass but when the taller boy had reached down to palm him through his jeans, Jongdae found himself slapping his hand away.  
  
“Don’t touch,” he’d ordered, bass in his voice. “Just use your eyes.”  
  
“Eh?” Kris’ eyebrows threaded in confusion as Jongdae hopped up and scurried into his room. He followed after the boy, watched him rummage around his dresser drawer in search for something. He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms like the big kid he is, looking affronted. “You’ve been nothing but a little tease since you basically gobbled my cock and now y—”  
  
“You can look. But don’t. Fucking. _Touch_.”  
  
There had been defiance in Kris’ eyes then, a fiery conflict that sizzled, popped and danced until squelched by curiosity.  
  
In the end he’d done as he’d been told.  
  
The normally collected leader loses his cool in a flash. He’s a wreck; tugging so frantically at his cock with his spit-slick, ring-clad left hand that Jongdae worries he may mar valuable goods. The way his orgasm rattles him looks almost painful; he bites his lip to throttle a moan hard enough that he breaks skin, jaw clenched and visage contorted. Jongdae can’t stifle the derisive little cackle that creeps up his throat because _how weak_.  
  
The pride and superiority swelling in his chest makes his cock twitch and leak excess precum. But it’s the way Kris looks at him that spurs him on the most. It’s that need in his eyes that ignites a thrill deep inside Jongdae to the highest degree and has him pulling the anal beads out of his body until he comes with airy gasps that shake his whole being.  
  
Oh so generously, Jongdae beckons Kris over with a finger, makes him get on all fours to lap up the traces of come on his dick and stomach (a sight he’d store away for future use), and Jongdae thinks he could get used to this.  
  
Jongdae finds he’s damn good at coming untouched. The vocalist had never known he possessed such self restraint until now, never had the patience to discover such a skill in the past. Sex with other people was always about instant pleasure, a means to get off as quickly as possible and naturally, Jongdae had forever needed the distraction of touching his dick, of being touched or fucked to do so.  
  
He practices alone for a few weeks as a way to wind down between hectic schedules, even buys a butt plug and a cock ring to hone his newfound ability and Jongdae’s never been more satisfied with toys.  
  
None of them are quite as satisfying as his favorite toy, however.  
  
It becomes routine. Jongdae names the place and time, never the other way around. He sets the rules and Kris abides by them. Jongdae knows he’s pushing Kris’ limit it, knows not being able to touch him as he pleases frustrates the rapper. But even if Jongdae had a single fuck to give, he wouldn’t care; in the end it’s about his own needs. And that’s that.  
  
This tryst in particular takes place backstage at a music show. After Exo’s performance, Jongdae pulls Kris into the bathroom and locks the door behind them, lets the taller boy trap his body between his larger frame and the marble counters of the sink.  
  
Their bodies close but not quite touching, Kris has one hand on the mirror behind Jongdae’s head, the other stroking his cock. Jongdae’s pants and underwear pool around his ankles, his ass pressed to the counter, erection leaking and unattended to. Goose bumps cover his skin as he shuts his eyes and focuses on how Kris speaks into his ear. The rapper’s voice is hoarse, his breath hot and frayed and he’s whispering mindless dirty threats that he can’t fulfill.  
  
“Wanna fuck you so bad. Make you take my cock so hard you can’t stand, fill you up to the brim to the point that you’re leaking my cum for days.”  
  
“Shit,” Jongdae mutters. Heat fills his stomach and he can’t take it anymore. A simple tweak of his own nipple pushes him off the edge and has him coming sticky down his legs. Kris follows suit.  
  
“You’re the butchest masochist ever,” The older of the two comments once his fly is zipped up.  
  
This isn’t the first time he’s been labeled as such. Plus, there’s some truth to Kris’ words so Jongdae says nothing, just enjoys his post-orgasm buzz and scrutinizes his leader who’s now meticulously washing cum off his rings at the sink.  
  
Jongdae tries to explain how it all works, that yes, it does _hurt good_ but his throbbing cock is easy to neglect when all his other sensations seem to be multiplied tenfold. Kris fails to understand. Jongdae doesn’t know why he bothers.  
  
When he finally lets Kris fuck him, it’s hands free and only to see if he can live up to his words. He does (and then some) and Jongdae thinks coming this way—dick pressed between his stomach and the mattress as Kris pounds into him—is an almost spiritual experience (or maybe it’s just the way he sees heaven behind his eyelids and prayers freefall from his lips).  
  
Be it in bed or everyday life, Jongdae is far from the submissive type. He’s always been bossy during sex, even more so with Kris so when the Chinese male attacks him in a wave of unwarranted fervor after dinner whilst the other members are tidying up and, Jongdae finds the tables turning on him.  
  
“W-what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jongdae asks. He’s pinned to the wall and this is not okay.  
  
A smirk spreads across Kris’ lips. Jongdae wants to wipe it off with his cock. “Just shut up, yeah?”  
  
Kris presses his lips to Jongdae’s and the younger boy resists until Kris works his tongue into his mouth in a way that has the vocalist’s knees buckling. Never has Jongdae been rendered so feeble. He can’t find the strength to brazen it out, not when Kris has got a grasp around his neck tight enough to immobilize him.  
  
Kris breaks the kiss to attach his mouth to a sensitive patch of skin just above Jongdae’s collar. He begins biting and sucking bruises up Jongdae’s neck, along the underside of his jaw and shit.  
  
Snaking a hand in Jongdae’s track pants, Kris strokes the younger through the sparse fabric of his boxers. Jongdae tries to squirm free but Kris tightens his hold around his neck and dick at once, presses their bodies closer together and Jongdae contemplates defeat. Soon Kris’ tongue is playing with the vocalist’s ear piercing and Jongdae’s hips rut against Kris’ hand on their own accord. He’s so fucking wet already, for a second he thinks that perhaps coming this way isn’t so bad either.  
  
Too suddenly the friction ceases. Jongdae is dumbfounded as Kris pushes him down to his knees by his shoulders.  
  
The leader rubs his thumb across Jongdae’s swollen bottom lip, looks down on him with half-lidded eyes. “Wanna see you touch yourself while you suck me off.”  
  
Jongdae is shit at taking orders. He scowls, standing up to knee Kris in the balls. Then he sticks his leg out to trip him when he stumbles backwards and sends the big oaf falling flat on his ass. Brazenly, the singer presses the heel of his foot against the obnoxious bulge in Kris’ too-tight pants and rubs at it until the older man is crying out in defeat. Music to Jongdae’s ears.  
  
Kneeling once more, Jongdae settles himself between Kris’ legs. He presses his knee against Kris’ dick and when the larger male tries to push Jongdae’s leg away, Jongdae leans in and captures his wrists, pinning his arms to the floor.  
  
“Since when do you get to tell me what to do with my dick?” he questions.  
  
Kris only squirms beneath him.  
  
Jongdae almost feels bad for putting even more pressure against Kris’ cock because the rapper’s eyes well up with tears of agony, but he doesn’t let up. Kris is so much bigger than he is; he could easily take control of this situation but he never does. Just then, Jongdae figures that the other boy likes this treatment, likes being bossed about. He’d wanted this reaction. Jongdae revels in that discovery.  
  
“Who calls the motherfucking shots around here?”  
  
“Y-you do.”  
  
The younger male smiles, presses a bruising kiss to Kris’ lips. “Mmm. That’s right. Good boy. You’re not as dumb as you look.” He lets Kris go and stands to his feet.  
  
“Now _strip_.”  
  
Kris’ duties as leader make him more accustomed to giving orders than taking them, and in certain cases, he can be as stubborn as Jongdae under the commands of others. But when the smaller male tells him to get on the bed, lie on his back and keep his fucking hands behind his head, he obeys without much quarrel.  
  
As Jongdae straddles Kris’ thighs and proceeds to prep himself with the nearest found lubricant (it’s Yixing’s and smells too much like cherries for his liking), he welters in the fear he sees floating amongst the blonde’s lust-laden orbs.  
  
All it takes for that tough exterior of Kris’ to crumble is three of Jongdae’s own fingers pressed to the knuckle inside himself. Without much consideration for the strained hard on Kris sports, Jongdae thrusts his digits out and in, out and in, all the while holding Kris’ gaze calmly. He crooks them just right, gains the pressure he’d been seeking and lets out a moan that makes Kris’ dick do a few sit ups.  
  
Jongdae simpers. It’s hilarious, really, how Kris’ face says _‘hurry the fuck up’_ , but he dare not say those words aloud, too apprehensive of the consequences.  
  
Jongdae gives a deliberate roll of his hips that causes their cocks to slide together. Kris squeezes his eyes shut and utters a guttural string of curses. Nails digging into the skin of Kris’ thigh, Jongdae delights in the shudder that runs through his body as he pulls his fingers out of himself.  
  
There’s a pearl of precum trickling down the rapper’s shaft that looks enticing. Jongdae eyes it for a moment, bends down to grip the base of Kris’ cock, ass pointed north. He licks a path up the older male’s length, dips his tongue into the slit and leaves a kiss there with a hum. For a moment he mouths at the head, gives the allusion of fitting his lips around it. Jongdae thinks he can see just about every single muscle in Kris’ body tense up, gaze fixed on nothing but him. The leader looks so dumb and desperate that Jongdae almost considers giving him what he wants (almost).  
  
Kris pushes his hips up and Jongdae whacks him. A feline smirk curls his lips as Jongdae pulls away. Kris’ eyes follow the wet string that stretches between his cock and the smaller boy’s tongue.  
  
It isn’t long before Jongdae is back to straddling the man under him. He squirts lube in his hand, warms it between his finders for longer than necessary and rubs it against his hole, then coats Kris’ cock and tugs for good measure, just to make the older boy whine. Steadily, he positions the tip against his entrance and sinks down carefully, palms pressed flat against Kris’ stomach for leverage.  
  
The vocalist takes no time to get situated, loves the fullness and how the stretch burns hot, hot, hot. He lifts himself off Kris’ dick, slow, till his hole suctions the head, then he slams his hips back down. He shifts, seeks the spot he knows he’s close to finding, angles his hips just right and then he’s bouncing eagerly.  
  
Kris keeps drawling in English every now and again, obscene whines of _yes fuck, so good, just like that, oh my god, oh my fucking god_. His reactions lead Jongdae to abandon his perfect posture and slump forward, shove his fingers in Kris’ open mouth because _shut the hell up_.  
  
“Suck, bitch,” he orders.  
  
Jongdae rubs circles against Kris’ tongue to coax him into obeying. He thrusts them in and out forcefully enough to trigger his gag reflex, proceeds to massage his palate as a silent apology that doesn’t reach his eyes. His free hand scratches red lines down Kris’ abdomen as he grinds his hips in a figure eight motion. Kris moans like a whore around Jongdae’s fingers.  
  
“You like that?”  
  
All Kris can do is nod in response.  
  
Jongdae laughs, a maniacal sound punctuated by a sharp intake of breath. He pulls his fingers from Kris’ mouth and leaves the older male coughing and wheezing for air. Smearing saliva against Kris’ bottom lip, he slaps the rapper’s cheek and takes hold of his jaw, fucks himself faster on the cock inside him. “I can’t fucking hear you.”  
  
“I like—” Kris’ words get caught in his throat as Jongdae scrapes his nails up his chest.  
  
Jongdae’s muscles clench tight when he feels his climax building in the pit of his stomach, his hips picking up speed. He comes in jerky spurts down his cock and onto Kris’ stomach and once he rides out the after effects of his orgasm he falls forward, slouched against Kris’ chest. It takes a minute for him to catch his breath but soon he sits up and puts his weight on his knees again, grabbing Kris’ hands from behind his head to lead them to his sides.  
  
Kris looks perplexed.  
  
“Go ahead, finish inside me.”  
  
The older male can only gawk for a moment. He slides his hands down Jongdae’s sides towards his lower back, then gropes at Jongdae’s ass, savors the way the pliant flesh yields under his fingers. Kris holds the smaller male tightly before lifting his hips off the bed and snapping them upward.  
  
“Shit, it hurts,” Jongdae almost sobs. The pain shooting up his spine is more apparent without the headiness of his arousal, his cock flaccid, sensitive and bouncing uncomfortably in front of him with every rise and fall of Kris’s hips. Kris’ pace slows; he begins to move more shallowly but Jongdae is displeased. His fingers rake down Kris’ biceps.  
  
“I didn’t tell you to stop.”  
  
Kris grips the smaller male’s hips thrusts into him hard and fast. The _wails of ouch, shit, oh god!_ he elicits from Jongdae pushes him over the edge. He spills deep inside Jongdae’s ass, rutting against him until the singer falls onto his chest.  
  
When Kris’ legs stop shaking, he pushes Jongdae’s sweat-dampened fringe from his eyes to press a kiss to his forehead. “Damn. You really are the butchest masochist ever, aren’t you?”  
  
(The only thing Jongdae gives Kris in response is a slap in the nuts).

**Author's Note:**

> rip to this ship


End file.
